11-22-2023, 01:08 AM
Ezvin purposefully remained in place to let Jensen come to him. The view emptied every thought from his head but one, and he appreciated every second of it.
He never doubted Jensen wouldn’t come. Not after the way he looked at him in the coffee shop. How long he would stay was another matter, but Ezvin wasn’t the sort to give up when the chemistry was this strong.
Moscow in the 40s was a very different place than decades before. Once, their mutual attraction would have necessitated discretion, dancing a fine line of subtle gestures and unspoken words. He would have had to step into Jensen’s shadow on the effort to adjust his collar or straighten his tie in order to allow his hands graze the side of Jensen's throat. Maybe tug a little extra harder on the knot to feel the weight of his body shift with the momentum. But now, thanks to a modern world and a more tolerant government, he could do as much without fear of reprisal. Now, it was the kind of world where as Ezvin pressed near enough to feel Jensen’s body heat, and when he fixed the open line of his collar around the edges of his jacket, he could openly glance down the line of skin beneath his neck and imagine what hinted beneath the shirt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Ezvin confessed, flirting openly. He lingered just long enough to ensure his intentions were clear but not overwhelming, then stepped back, gesturing towards the elevators.
“The party is upstairs.” He nodded toward them.
They reached the elevator alongside Spectra, but she wouldn’t know him in return. He gestured that Spectra could take the elevator first, and they filed in behind.
Music met them the moment the doors parted and the space was shadowed with party lights. The dance floor was alive with movement, while others mingled near the floor-to-ceiling windows, silhouetted against the city's night skyline. But it was to the bar that Ezvin guided Jensen. “What are you drinking?” he leaned in close enough to be heard over the music.
He never doubted Jensen wouldn’t come. Not after the way he looked at him in the coffee shop. How long he would stay was another matter, but Ezvin wasn’t the sort to give up when the chemistry was this strong.
Moscow in the 40s was a very different place than decades before. Once, their mutual attraction would have necessitated discretion, dancing a fine line of subtle gestures and unspoken words. He would have had to step into Jensen’s shadow on the effort to adjust his collar or straighten his tie in order to allow his hands graze the side of Jensen's throat. Maybe tug a little extra harder on the knot to feel the weight of his body shift with the momentum. But now, thanks to a modern world and a more tolerant government, he could do as much without fear of reprisal. Now, it was the kind of world where as Ezvin pressed near enough to feel Jensen’s body heat, and when he fixed the open line of his collar around the edges of his jacket, he could openly glance down the line of skin beneath his neck and imagine what hinted beneath the shirt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Ezvin confessed, flirting openly. He lingered just long enough to ensure his intentions were clear but not overwhelming, then stepped back, gesturing towards the elevators.
“The party is upstairs.” He nodded toward them.
They reached the elevator alongside Spectra, but she wouldn’t know him in return. He gestured that Spectra could take the elevator first, and they filed in behind.
Music met them the moment the doors parted and the space was shadowed with party lights. The dance floor was alive with movement, while others mingled near the floor-to-ceiling windows, silhouetted against the city's night skyline. But it was to the bar that Ezvin guided Jensen. “What are you drinking?” he leaned in close enough to be heard over the music.